A Moment of Closeness
by foxmuldersbitch
Summary: Post-Hollywood AD


**Title**: A Moment of Closeness

**Author**: FoxMuldersBitch (Petra)

**Rating**: R (a little sumpin sumpin but no consummation)

**Category**: MSR

**Spoilers**: Rain King, Hollywood AD

**Summary**: Mulder and Scully do some stuff...

**Disclaimer**: I do not own these characters, and while somewhere there are papers that give that ownership to FOX, 1013, and their various subsidiaries, I'd rather believe that the X-files as well as these characters belong to all of the fans everywhere, and of course to David and Gilly. All hail Chris Carter. Please don't sue me, I couldn't help myself...

**Credits**: Thanks to my beta Denise, who is not only a *great* beta, but wicked sweet as well!   
  
  
  
  


A Moment of Closeness

Mulder sat on the now abandoned movie set, his hands holding the   
plastic Lazarus Bowl as he halfheartedly ate popcorn that had no taste.   
Why couldn't it have been he and Scully kissing?   
Why did it have to take place on a movie set,   
acted out by performers who had no clue what they had   
been through together, had no clue who he and Scully   
were? They were an amalgam of so many different things;   
friendship, caring, respect; and to have it all trivialized and   
made meaningless by Hollywood was more than Mulder   
could stand. And at the same time Mulder couldn't help but   
wonder a little if they had gotten it right somehow, in some   
small way. Perhaps the movie had cut to the quick of his and   
Scully's relationship, past the BS about friendship and   
respect, and right to something primal, something that and   
he Scully could not face.   
It all came down to one thing, as it always did. He didn't   
want to lose her. He could not _afford_ to lose her. She was,   
under everything else that she meant to him, his miracle.   
To risk that for sex was something that Mulder was not--   
and perhaps would never be--prepared to do. It was always   
so simple in movies, if only life could be like that. If only.   
As Mulder sat there pondering these things, Scully slowly   
walked through the sets looking for Mulder. She had been   
all over the studio looking for him, and she had begun to   
think back to all of the other times that she had conducted a   
similar search. He had the annoying habit of ditching her,   
and she had the more annoying habit (at least to herself) of   
needing to find him.   
God! That movie! What the hell was that drivel? The only   
way that she had staved off being completely mortified and   
humiliated was by having Mulder at her side, experiencing   
the same horror. But then he had left and she had been   
stuck there all by herself, while Tea Leoni's Scully had made   
out with Gary Shandling, playing Mulder. Her horror had   
mounted as Leoni and Richard Gere (who had played   
Skinner...now that's a stretch) had done the wild thing in   
Skinner's office, and on his desk no less. Too bad Mulder   
had missed that. He would've gotten a kick out of it.   
Scully was suddenly struck with the memory of Mulder   
knocking on her door earlier that night. Dressed in a   
tuxedo, Mulder's normal good looks had become almost   
breathtaking and it had been all that she could do to muster   
up enough breath to take his arm and walk out to the   
waiting limo. The inside of a car, let alone a limo, had never   
seemed so small. Scully marveled that after seven years,   
Mulder's aesthetically pleasing face had not lost its charm,   
and that her reaction to it had not lessened in the least, that   
it had in fact grown.   
She approached the set that still housed the fake cemetery   
that had been used in the movie and smiled to herself,   
remembering back to the night that she and Mulder had had   
the discussion about Ed Wood's 'Plan 9 from Outer Space'.   
She wondered how if Mulder could sit through that, it had   
been so difficult to sit through "The Lazarus Bowl". His right   
brain should have been going crazy from all that freedom. I   
guess when it hit home, it was different.   
Finally! Scully thought to herself when Mulder came into   
view. He was sitting, rather glumly, atop a small hill that   
overlooked the set. He was eating popcorn and seemed to   
be lost in thought. The buzzing of the huge studio fan   
masked her footsteps, and as Mulder sat unaware of her   
presence, she took a moment to just look at him. Just to   
imagine what her life would have been like without his   
passion and his friendship. How horribly boring everything   
would have been. How being beside him, however irrational   
he was at times, always left her feeling full and complete.   
She turned the fan so that it hit Mulder square in the face. It   
blew his hair away from his face in attractive tendrils as he   
looked up. Scully looked down at the floor as she pushed   
the fan away from him and said, "I've been looking all over   
for you."   
Mulder watched Scully walk to his side, and even among his   
disgust and anger at the movie, her beauty still registered,   
and caused a familiar tug at his heart. She put her hand on   
his shoulder to lower herself down to sit by him, and the   
soft feeling of her hand, and then the warmth of her body   
pressed against his side felt, all poetics aside, just plain   
good. She took a piece of popcorn and began to chew it as   
she looked out over the set.   
"They got it sooo wrong, Scully." Mulder said.   
Scully finished chewing and then took a deep breath, "I got   
a page from the Washington Bureau. Micah Hoffman was   
murdered tonight, murdered in his home by Cardinal   
O'Fallon, who then hanged himself. A murder-suicide."   
"It's Jesus and Judas, Scully."   
"It's all over now." She had been just as surprised by this   
news as Mulder was, but her somewhat conventional beliefs   
in Jesus still made it feel wrong to her to label anyone else   
as Jesus, and had clinically filed Hoffman's death away in   
her mind.   
"No, no. It's just beginning. Hoffman and O'Fallon were   
these complicated, flawed, _beautiful_ people, and now they'll   
just be remembered as jokes because of this movie. The   
character based on O'Fallon is listed in the credits as   
Cigarette-Smoking Pontiff. How silly is that?"   
"Pretty silly."   
"Yeah, and what about us? How are we gonna be   
remembered now because of this movie?"   
Scully realized that that aspect had never even occurred to   
her. She had just assumed that it would do horribly and that   
no one who mattered to her would ever even see it. She   
would personally see to that. "Well, hopefully the movie will   
tank," she said to Mulder.   
"What about the dead people who are forever silent and   
can't tell their stories anymore," Mulder continued, "They're   
all going to have to rely on Hollywood to show the future   
how we lived and it all becomes oversimplified and   
trivialized and cigarette-smoking pontificized and becomes   
as plastic and meaningless as this stupid plastic Lazarus   
bowl." He looked as if he wanted to throw it out onto the   
set, but he refrained at the last second.   
Scully was becoming more and more humored by the whole   
conversation, and she squeezed Mulder's arm, her hand still   
wrapped around it, trying desperately not to laugh. Mulder   
seemed so seriously concerned about these well, dead   
people, who probably had better things to do than watch   
crappy movies. "I think the dead are beyond caring what   
people think about them, and hopefully we can adopt the   
same attitude," she smiled as Mulder grinned, still stifling   
her laughter, but barely, "You do know that there are not   
real dead people out there, right? That this is just a movie   
set?"   
"The dead are everywhere, Scully." Scully let out a small   
titter, not sure if he was kidding or not. Knowing Mulder, he   
was probably completely serious. "Yeah, well, we're alive,   
and we're _relatively_ young, and Skinner was so tickled by   
the movie-"   
"I bet he was." Mulder broke in, remembering, not fondly   
"The Lazarus' Bowl"'s version of Scully, proclaiming her love   
for A.D. Skinner.   
"-that he's given us," Scully continued as if Mulder had not   
spoke, reaching into her pocket, "a Bureau credit card to   
use for the evening." Scully laughed impishly, a rare sound   
that Mulder always found beautiful and rather enchanting.   
She tugged on his arm. "Come on."   
They walked down the slight incline, Scully's arm still   
wrapped around Mulder's, their bodies close as they walked   
towards the edge of the set. "Mulder, I have something to   
confess." Scully said.   
"What's that?"   
"I'm in love with Associate Producer Walter Skinner." They   
both began to laugh, as Mulder turned the Lazarus bowl full   
of popcorn, over the head of a statue on the set. "Ah, me   
too." He said humorously as Scully reached out for his hand,   
enfolding it in her own.   
Walking toward the exit, still holding hands, Mulder silently   
thanked Scully with a squeeze of his hand. She always had   
the ability to make him see the lighter side of things. To   
lessen the intensity of how he viewed life. She was his   
miracle, and his other half, his soul mate. And it was in   
these random moments of closeness that he fully   
understood himself.   
"I say we spend as much money as possible and as   
extravagantly as we can, just to get the Skin Man back."   
Mulder said as they approached the exit.   
"I've already gotten started." Scully said, as they walked out   
of the doors, and an even bigger limo than the one that   
they had went to the premiere in stood in wait for them.   
"I have never been as proud of you as I am at this moment."   
Mulder said in mock-awe as he stopped and just stared at   
the car.   
"If I had known that this was all it took... ," Scully said,   
ruefully, disentangling her hand from Mulder's, as the   
chauffeur suddenly sprung out of the driver's side and   
rushed to open the door for them. He was a sixty-   
something man, who smiled widely at Scully.   
"Thank you." Scully said, as she got in.   
"The pleasure is mine." The chauffeur said, still looking at   
her appreciatively. When Scully looked away, Mulder gave   
the man what could only be described as a look that said   
'She's with me'. The man's smile faltered a bit, and Mulder   
climbed in after Scully.   
The inside of the car was fully stocked, complete with   
champagne, snacks, even a TV and VCR. Scully saw Mulder's   
eye light on the TV and said, "Don't even think about it. We   
are going to see the sights of LA, not watch TV in a limo."   
"I know, I know. I was just wondering about the uh-   
reception in the car." He had actually been wondering if   
there were any good movies on. And by good, he meant,   
those featuring naked women and men doing what naked   
women and men did best.   
"Yeah, _sure_, Mulder."   
"So, where to?" The chauffeur asked from the front seat.   
"Any ideas, Mulder?"   
"How about a little trip to a strip joint?" Mulder said,   
teasingly wagging his eyebrows. "I could always use a lap   
dance."   
"You wish," Scully said. "Do you have any suggestions,   
Driver?" She said, giving Mulder a withering look.   
"Well, that all depends on how much money you're looking   
to spend, and what brand of entertainment you're looking   
for." The driver said, looking into the rearview mirror. He   
tipped his hat back with his finger. "There's this great club   
called _The Miracle_ where all the LA elite couples hang out."   
"We're not a couple," Scully said immediately.   
"Sure, whatever," The driver said. From the look that the   
man had given him earlier, he thought that maybe the lady   
should be asking the man what he thought about that.   
"Anyway, it's a nice place, but expensive."   
"Expensive? Sounds good to me. Will we be able to get in?"   
Scully asked, practical as always.   
The driver slowly ran his eyes over her appreciatively   
through the rearview mirror, and glanced cursorily at   
Mulder, "I don't think that'll be a problem, miss. You might   
want to change out of the suit though. You look like an FBI   
agent or something. And the tux may be a bit too much."   
"Then take us somewhere that we can get something else   
to wear, please. First though, can we just drive and look   
around LA?"   
"Done, Miss." He pulled out of the parking space and began   
to drive.   
Mulder who had stayed silent through this entire exchange   
had a stunned look on his face.   
"What?" Scully asked in answer to his look.   
Mulder ducked his head conspiratorially, and whispered, "A   
_club_, Scully? I never would have thought."   
"Well how often are we in Hollywood? We might as well live   
it up. Don't you think so, Mulder?"   
"Of course I think so. I just didn't think that you would."   
"Well, I'm still keeping you guessing. Seven years together,   
Mulder, and you still don't know all of my secrets." Scully   
said smiling a little.   
"Obviously," he said humorously. They drove around for an   
hour or so, the driver pointing out places that popular   
movies had been shot, infamous places where celebrities   
had been arrested or caught in compromising situations.   
They stopped for a few minutes at a Hollywood collectible   
store, and Mulder looked at a wide assortment of touristy   
items and Scully laughed as he bought them. They found   
themselves whispering to each other, so that the driver   
would not overhear what they were saying. They finally   
arrived at the clothing store.   
"You'll find whatever you need in here," the driver said form   
the front seat, "Oh, and you don't have to whisper, you can   
just put up the divider."   
Mulder knew that, but had not wanted the driver to think   
that he and Scully were up to anything dirty, and he   
certainly didn't want Scully to think that he wanted to do   
something dirty. No matter how much he actually _did_ want   
to.   
"I'll try to remember that." Mulder said as he and Scully got   
out of the car, and looked up at the sign in front of the   
store. The word Aqua was pulsing in blue neon waves of   
letters that actually seemed to be filled with liquid, and   
there appeared to be a waterfall pouring the water into the   
sign.   
"God, I love LA!" Mulder said, smiling at Scully.   
"Come on, Mulder." She took his arm as they walked into   
the store. The inside of the store was not as big as it had   
seemed outside. It was lit with semi-bright lights, and it   
was completely empty except for them. They probably   
didn't get a lot of business Friday nights. There was a   
women's and a men's section, as well as an entire section   
devoted to just leather.   
"Ooh, Leather." Mulder said, as a saleswoman walked over.   
"Can I help you?" She was about 25 years old with short   
spiky blue hair, and about 5 facial piercings. She was also   
smiling widely in Mulder's direction.   
"Maybe you can. We're from out of town and we're looking   
for something hip."   
"Something hip? Well, you've come to the right place.   
Everything here is hip. How about you guys look around and   
I'll be at the counter?" With a parting look at Mulder she   
walked away.   
"Make it quick, Mulder." Scully said, obviously annoyed at   
the clerk.   
"I have a confession to make, Scully... I'm not a very good   
shopper."   
"OK, first me, then you. Or you could always ask her to pick   
something out. I'm sure she'd be more than happy to   
oblige."   
"I'm sure she would, but I trust you Scully. Even in the   
matters of fashion."   
The two agents walked over to the women's department,   
and Scully quickly picked out two outfits. "I'm going to go   
and try these on."   
"Huh? OK." Mulder said, his eyes glazed. Shopping made   
him drowsy and bored. Scully gave him a look and walked to   
the dressing rooms. As soon as Scully closed the door, the   
saleslady walked over to him and struck up a conversation.   
They had just established that Scully was his partner and not   
his lover when Scully reemerged from the dressing room.   
Mulder stopped mid-sentence and stared.   
Scully was wearing a tank-top made out of shimmery silver   
material with spaghetti straps, and form-fitting black pants.   
They zipped on the side, and Mulder had to remind himself   
to breathe, she was so beautiful.   
"Does this look OK, Mulder? Is it too much?"   
"No, uh-no. You look fine. Fine. Don't even bother trying on   
the other one." The look on Mulder's face told the salesgirl   
the exact opposite of what they had just established about   
his and Scully's relationship, and she walked away.   
"OK, now you." Scully   
Have your way with me, Mulder said to himself. "OK. Make   
me beautiful, Scully." He said out loud.   
His outfit was chosen just as quickly, and was very simple as   
well. It consisted of a semi-tight button-down black shirt   
and black pants. When he walked out of the dressing room,   
Scully felt an almost over-whelming wave of desire rush   
through her entire body, and her mouth went completely   
dry.   
"Do you think I can pull this off, Scully?"   
"If I can pull this off, then you'll have no problem."   
"You don't think we look like a couple of old folks trying to   
look cool?" Mulder said, as they walked to the register.   
"Considering that's exactly what we are, I don't think we're   
doing too bad." Scully said, not looking into his eyes, but   
with a smile playing around the corner of her lips.   
They talked the salesgirl into allowing them to walk out   
with the clothes on, and Scully flashed the Bureau credit   
card. As they walked out of the store, Mulder put his hand   
on the small of Scully's back, and the salesgirl sighed sadly.   
The bouncer at the door of the club took one look at the   
duo and waved them through. "I guess we should be   
flattered," Scully said aside to Mulder, who didn't seem to   
be paying her any mind at all._ The Miracle_ was filled wall to   
wall with people that Mulder swore he recognized, but   
could not place immediately. They all had one thing in   
common, though: They were all drop-dead gorgeous, and   
Mulder was not the kind of man that surface beauty was lost   
on.   
"Is it just me or is everyone here perfect?" Mulder asked.   
"It's not just you, Mulder." They walked toward the bar,   
Mulder's hand on her back guiding her through the crowd,   
his head close to hers so that they could be heard above the   
band that was playing.   
"Maybe, there's something in the water, Scully. I should do   
some investigating. This could be an X-file." Mulder said, a   
smile in his voice.   
"Oh, is that what you call it, Mulder? Investigating?" Scully   
glanced over her shoulder, a sour look on her face.   
He smiled back. There was nowhere he wanted to be but at   
Scully's side tonight. He just couldn't tell her that.   
They approached the bar and Scully ordered a tequila   
sunrise and Mulder a rum and coke. They took seats at the   
bar and turned to face the dance floor. There were only a   
few couples actually dancing, the rest just seemed to be   
gyrating and touching their partners.   
"When was the last time that you were at a club, Scully?"   
Mulder asked as he took a sip of his drink.   
"Let's just say that the last time that I was at a club the   
BeeGees came on and everyone actually got excited, me   
included."   
"You used to be a BeeGees fan? I never would have   
guessed."   
"Why not?"   
"I don't know. I just thought that you had, well, _taste_."   
"Oh, and I bet there are no musical skeletons in your closet,   
Mulder?"   
"Well, I wouldn't exactly call them skeletons, but I have had   
a few indiscretions," he paused, "But nothing as bad as the   
BeeGees. OK, maybe one thing as bad at the BeeGees, but   
that's another stor-" In the middle of Mulder's sentence a   
man approached Scully. The man was about 6'2", blond and   
beautiful.   
"Hi, care to dance?" He said, not even glancing at Mulder.   
"I don't even know your name." Scully said, and Mulder   
would have sworn that she was _flirting_.   
"Wes, my name is Wes." The way his eyes passed over Scully,   
Mulder began to not only feel uncomfortable but angry as   
well. He had no right to say anything though, so he just sat   
there pretending to not pay attention to what they were   
talking about, but listening fully to every word.   
"I'm Dana, and I would love to dance." Scully didn't glance at   
Mulder as she walked away, her arm wrapped around Wes'.   
The band was playing a fast song as Scully and Wes began to   
dance, and Mulder was at first too stunned to see Scully   
cutting it up, that he could only stare. Then slowly as he   
sipped another rum and coke and the dancing became more   
flirtatious, he began to feel an emotion that he was not   
used to feeling around Scully. Jealousy with a dash of   
propriety thrown in.   
Scully meanwhile was just having fun. Of course the idea   
that Mulder might be jealous entered her mind, and some   
part of her liked that idea, but another part of her just   
wanted to do something out of the ordinary for Dr. Scully,   
FBI agent, and since she had been too embarrassed to ask   
Mulder to dance, Wes had seemed a viable option. And if   
nothing else, he was a great dancer.   
She looked at Wes as he put his hands on her waist and   
wished that the face that she was looking up into was   
Mulder's. And that the hands on her waist were Mulder's.   
The song ended and she looked over to where they had   
been sitting and saw her partner virtually glaring at the two   
of them. She tried to maneuver her way back to him, but   
Wes pulled her back.   
"Come on. One more dance?" Wes' smile was charming, and   
for just a split second Scully thought how it would serve   
Mulder right to feel a little jealousy. Diana Fowley randomly   
popped into her mind, and even though Diana was dead,   
Scully could still remember how she had felt when she had   
found out about her and Mulder's affair.   
"OK, but then I have to go." She said, her eyes stealing a   
glance at Mulder's silent brooding form.   
"Is that your boyfriend? He looks tough. I wouldn't want to   
hone in on his action." Wes said following Scully's gaze.   
"He's not my boyfriend, and I'm nobody's action."   
"OK, sorry!" The band started playing a slower song, and   
Wes pulled Scully into his arms. They danced close for a bit,   
Scully's mind wandering, to Mulder, to the movie, to the   
idea that the dead were everywhere, then back to Mulder.   
She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked around and came   
face to face with a tightly grinning Mulder.   
"Can I cut in?" Mulder asked, his question aimed at Wes.   
Scully immediately turned into his arms. Wes stood there   
for a second or two and then walked off. Scully did not meet   
Mulder's eyes, but said, with a small smile on her lips, "I   
didn't think that you liked to dance, Mulder."   
"We've danced before, Scully. Don't you remember? At the   
Cher concert?" He was talking very softly, and he pulled   
Scully closer so that their entire bodies were touching.   
"Of course I remember." And she did. Vividly.   
"You never gave me a chance to ask you, tonight."   
Scully was having a difficult time thinking. She didn't know if   
it was because of the tequila sunrise or because Mulder   
smelled so damn good, but she guessed it was most likely   
the result of both of those things, as well as the sound of   
Mulder's voice soft and low in her ear.   
"Would you have, Mulder?" Scully said, meeting his eyes.   
"Yes, but Ken asked you first." He said, grinning.   
"His name is Wes, Mulder."   
"Wes, Ken, whatever."   
"Who are we talking about again?" Scully said.   
Mulder smiled, "No one, Scully. No one at all." When Scully   
was a teenager, she had gone through a phase wherein she   
had voraciously read romance novels, and even back then   
she had been very practical, but the idea of a perfect love   
had fascinated her and drawn her back time and time again.   
She thought that maybe this was what they had been talking   
about in those books. When the rest of the world falls away,   
and all that you can see or think or feel is that one other   
person that you believe knows you deep inside where no   
one else can reach. The room fell away around her, and all   
she was conscious of was the feel of Mulder against her, his   
even breaths, and the gentle swaying of their bodies.   
When the song ended, Scully could not meet Mulder's eyes,   
which was fine with Mulder because he could not meet hers   
either.   
"You want to get out of here, Mulder?" Scully suddenly   
asked.   
"Yeah, do you?"   
"Yeah. It's been a long night, and we have to fly out   
tomorrow so we both need our sleep." Why are you still   
running, Scully, a voice inside her asked. What are you   
afraid of? Scully paid the voice no mind.   
"OK, Scully. Whatever you want."   
They began to walk out of the club and Mulder reached for   
her hand, not fully willing to let go just yet. They walked   
slowly past all of the beautiful people carrying drinks and   
laughing loudly, but neither of them paid anyone any mind.   
Their limo had parked up the street a ways, and the driver   
sat in the front seat reading a newspaper and listening to a   
ball game on the radio. "Did you two have a nice time?" He   
asked as he got out of the car to open the door for them.   
"We had a wonderful time, thanks for asking." Scully said   
politely, stepping into the limousine. This time the driver   
did not risk Mulder's wrath by giving Scully anything but a   
purely professional look. Mulder did not notice. He was too   
busy mentally kicking himself for his highhandedness. He   
had seen the way Wes had been touching Scully, and   
something inside of him had snapped. It had taken every   
ounce of his self-control to just calmly walk over and cut in,   
but perhaps even that had been too much. Perhaps Scully   
had been having a good time with the Ken doll and his   
interruption had pissed her off. He was so sick of not   
knowing where he stood, where they stood together.   
Scully told the driver to take them back to their hotel as   
Mulder sat in silence. She was afraid that the ease with   
which she had turned from Wes into Mulder's arms had said   
more to Mulder than she was comfortable with. And why   
had he come over? That alone must mean something. But   
what? Scully was so tired of the constant circles that her   
thoughts went in. This action meant he loved her, this   
action didn't, this action could be interpreted either way,   
this action... It was getting to be too much.   
"Mul-"   
"Scul-"   
They both began to speak at the same moment. Mulder   
grinned widely and Scully blushed a little and looked down   
at the seat, her eyes not seeing anything.   
"You first." Mulder, said.   
"No, you go. I don't even know what I was going to say   
really."   
"Me either... I wonder if Skinner is still up. Who was that   
woman that he was with at the premiere?"   
"I have no clue. Maybe a present from Federman," Scully   
said grinning, "Is that what you were going to say?"   
"Not even close." There was a small silence as they both   
listened to the engine and looked out the window.   
"You know, Mulder, some things are hard to say, but once   
you've said them, everything turns out the way you had   
hoped, and you wish that you had said them long ago."   
Scully said, their eyes locked on each other, their hearts   
both speeding up.   
"But sometimes, once you've said these difficult things, the   
person you've said them to doesn't believe you, or worse   
doesn't feel the same." Mulder said.   
"That's true. Maybe you shouldn't risk it." Scully said,   
smiling.   
"What?" Mulder said confused.   
"Maybe, you should wait for the other person to say it first."   
Mulder paused and then said quietly. "I'm waiting, Scully."   
Scully suddenly looked through the divider between them   
and the driver, and reached for the button to put up the   
window. As the window was raised, Scully took a deep   
breath, and then turned back to Mulder.   
"Do you remember Holman and Sheila?   
"Yeah." Mulder wanted her to get to the point, quick.   
"Well, while you were giving Holman dating advice, I was   
giving Sheila a little advice of my own. I told her that   
sometimes the best relationships come from friendships.   
That sometimes a person that we are just friends with all of   
a sudden becomes so much more, and that randomly one   
day that person is the only person that you can ever imagine   
yourself with."   
"You're killing me here, Scully."   
"I know. I'm getting there, but I have to explain something   
first. Before I joined the X-files, I had been in so many   
relationships where I felt controlled and lorded over, and   
that was of course partly my fault, stemming from my   
attraction to older men who wanted someone to control and   
lord over. But then I met you, and even through all of the   
arguments and all of the times that my science has failed   
me, I have always felt equal to you and respected and   
valued, and I'm not used to that. It's taken me a while to   
allow myself to open up, and not just about the paranormal,   
but about everything that I've held as true. And Mulder, as   
odd as this may sound, the movie tonight made me think   
about some things."   
"What are you trying to say, Scully?"   
"I think that I'm trying to say that I love you." Scully would   
have sworn that her heart had stopped beating, but as a   
doctor she knew that this was not so, but it sure felt like it.   
There was a short silence as Mulder waited for his heart to   
start beating again, "You _think_ that you love me?"   
"Well. Maybe _think_ is the wrong word..."   
"Maybe?" Mulder didn't even know fully what he was saying.   
He was basically buying time until he could form a coherent   
sentence. Maybe a witty comment? He looked at Scully's   
face. Maybe not.   
"Dammit Mulder! Are you intentionally making this difficult?   
I love you! I love you! Ok?"   
"I love you, too, Scully. How could I not?" He asked softly.   
The limo pulled up in front of their hotel, but neither of   
them noticed. Mulder slid closer to Scully, and tucked a   
strand of her hair behind her ear, then let his hands come   
to rest on her face. Scully's mouth was half-open and her   
breathing was shallow. "How could I not," he repeated,   
pressing his lips against hers.   
It was a chaste kiss at first, not unlike their first on New   
Years Eve, but it soon deepened, and Scully lifted her hands   
and put them on Mulder's chest. She gasped a little as   
Mulder's tongue found its way into her mouth, and his   
hands on her face moved to her hair, pressing her closer to   
him.   
They teased each other with their lips and their tongues   
and soon it became impossible to know who was sighing   
and who was gasping. And, when the kiss finally ended,   
Scully's lipstick was a mess as well as her hair, and Mulder   
was too stunned to speak.   
"I did want to ask you something, Mulder," Scully said softly,   
their faces were still so close that Mulder could feel the   
breath from her mouth on his eyelashes.   
"What?" Mulder said, surprised, but not much, at the   
huskiness in his voice.   
"Your musical skeleton?" Scully asked, her voice soft.   
"My-? Oh... Promise you won't think less of me?"   
"I promise."   
"I used to have a fascination with Tom Jones." Scully was   
silent for a second and then began to laugh loudly.   
"You promised, Scully." Mulder said, as Scully got herself   
under control.   
"I know. I know. But, Tom Jones? You're the one who keeps   
me guessing!"   
"I think the car stopped." Mulder said, "I bet that guy thinks   
we're doing something naughty back here."   
"I bet."   
"We should go in."   
"Yeah, we should." But they stayed back there for a little   
longer, enjoying this moment of closeness, and the driver,   
who had been privy to some very naughty things in his   
tenure as a limo driver in LA, quietly read his paper in the   
front seat.   
  
  
  
  



End file.
